


What Lurks in the Dark

by Firekitten



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, This was just the author's excuse to write a friendship fic between her favs, spoilers for all routes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firekitten/pseuds/Firekitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine for a moment: there is no player. Frisk is a lost kid yearning for love. And Chara just wants to break the barrier. How is it, then, that they still end up holding a knife at the end of the world?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lurks in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Did you ever want to write a fic for a fandom so badly but everything you write ends up terrible? Yeah, that's me with Undertale. I think Ill Winds turned out better then this one and even that one was just kind of okay. Ah, well. As long as one person enjoys it, it's worth posting, right? 
> 
> The theme is: When science goes wrong, bad things happen. Yay!
> 
> As if the True Lab didn't have enough of that.

The first thing Frisk saw when they opened their eyes was light filtering from the high ceiling, illuminating yellow pollen that glittered like falling stars as it drifted around the cavern. They stared at it wonderingly until the ache started to set in and the memories flooded back: Unanswered thuds as they pounded on a permanently locked door of a place called- well, not _home_. Never that. Somewhere to stay, maybe. Then, there was their lonely trek on littered streets for days afterwards, gathering up change to spend it all on a single bus trip to as far as it would take them. Stepping out to find their new life was going to be spent on a superstition-filled mountain that the kids back at class would whisper about and being unsure whether this was ironic or appropriate. Climbing barely worn trails and slipping into a cavern that could be their new place to stay.

The hole they never saw.

The scream they never found air to utter.

The fall that lasted both forever and only a second.

Frisk rose their hand and wondered if they were dead.

“Tch, another one. How stupid can you get?”

They started at the sudden voice, peering around to see another child that looked about their age sitting in the far corner of the flowerbed, staring away with a petulant frown on their face. They sighed, reaching up to run a hand through their short hair before it limply fell back down toward the flowers.

Not even one of them moved, the limb passing through them as if it were made of nothing.

Maybe they were dead after all.

Frisk was inclined to believe different when they shifted to sit up and the hot spikes of pain rolling down their back wrenched a groan from them.

“Yeah, ‘course it hurts.” The other kid said, tone so smug it was grating. “What did you expect to happen, stupid?”

An annoyed grunt bubbled in their throat. When the other didn’t even look their way, they started to pat the ground loudly.

That finally got them to look their way. Their brows pinched and they mumbled to themselves, “What is he doing?”

…He?

Frisk reached out, slapping their hand into the other’s shoulder. Or well, tried to, except their hand passed right through them instead.

But this seemed to have a startling effect on the lemon and lime sweater-clad kid as their eyes widened, looking between the shoulder Frisk had tried to shove and themself. “Did you just… try to hit me?” Rapidly feeling meek, Frisk gave a nod, watching the other turn away, muttering, “But the others they never – Wait!” Frisk shifted backwards as the other’s face broke into a terrifying smile as they lunged forward. Had they been corporeal, they certainly wouldn’t be half melded with Frisk’s knees right now. “You can hear me?! See me?!”

Another nod, slower. They were beginning to rethink the ‘dead’ thing.

Luckily the…ghost (A ghost. They were talking to a _ghost_ ) seemed to sense their unease as they backed off some, but the smile never wavered. They kind of wished it would. “Sorry, it’s just been ages since I’ve had someone to talk to.” Frisk felt their stomach drop. “I don’t understand it but, well, I’ll take what I can get. So how’d you end up here?”

Their heart pounded in their ears as Frisk silently shook their head because while they could talk, here? In this situation? Asking them to lasso the moon was a more reasonable request. Hoping the other would understand, Frisk rose a trembling hand, dusted yellow and red from pollen and cuts, and started to sign.

The kid drew their brows together at the movements but after several repetitions, murmured a soft, “Oh.”

The disappointment stung and Frisk curled some, signing apologizes the other couldn’t read.

“Uh, well,” They stumbled. Started again, “Forget it. It’s fine. Maybe it won’t matter. Listen, I know we barely know each other, and you just fell like, a million feet and all, but I got a favor to ask you. Will you hear me out? In return, I’ll tell you about this place.”

Frisk peered at them, curious what this stranger wanted. But, listening was something they could do without messing up at it. And they really did need to know where they were – how else were they going to set up their super secret cave base? So they gave a nod.

So the ghost told them about where they had fallen, a place known as the Underground which was full of monsters that humans had trapped here a long time ago. They spoke of their own fall, in snatches about the ambitions of the royal family that desired for the surface and for the best for their people and how they wanted to set everyone free. Told them, in whispers, how they too tried to follow in the family’s footsteps only to fail and die. Told them of SOUL, of magic, of all sorts of things Frisk could barely wrap their head around.

“-I’m stuck here. I can’t move beyond this place – believe me, I tried – but there’s still things I need to do. Stuff… I never finished.” They looked away, frowning, before shaking their head. “Mistakes I need to make up for.” Their eyes, an unusual but awesome shade of red, met Frisk’s again, determination brimming in them. “But you can. You have a SOUL. Probably a strong one, if you can see me. If you share it with me, I can move on from here and complete what I need to do. And, well, a scrawny kid like you won’t last long on your own, so you’ll probably need me out there anyways.”

 Frisk made a hand gesture that even those who didn’t know sign language could understand. The other’s surprised laughter was unexpectedly pleasant. “Well, _maybe_ you’d be alright.” The expression fell too soon. “So what do you say, will you help me out of here?” As they stared back, Frisk realized they had never had someone look at them so desperately before.

Had never had anyone _need_ them so much before.

Frisk’s fingers curled into fists and the same determination the other had filled them as well. They nodded. The relief and gratitude that fell on the other’s face seemed like a prize in itself.

The kid held out a hand as if it could actually be shook. “Name’s Chara, partner.”

They reached out a hand as well, because it was just courteous, and shook the air as they replied in a cracking voice, “F-Frisk.”

That was the beginning of an unexpected friendship.

* * *

At first, harboring Chara was unbearable. They were snarky, oftentimes hostile, never failed to have a sarcastic quip for _every_ thing and their favorite term for everyone was either ‘idiot’, ‘stupid’ or ‘stupid idiot’. While they kept on their promise to help, and did so well – their gut instinct about Flowey had spared them both a lot pain and Frisk would never have gotten through some of the other monsters’ puzzles without them – sometimes they wished they were alone again. Especially when they bantered over stuff that should just be common sense.

 _Why not just hit them?_ Chara intervened once as they dodged Snowdrake’s icy sickles.

Frisk felt a shudder wrack their spine. _I’m not gonna hit them!_

_Why not? They don’t have a problem hitting you._

_Well I have a problem hitting them. So shut up._ Frisk thought strictly, thankfully quieting Chara.

Another side effect of allowing Chara into their SOUL was that sometimes they could take control and suddenly Frisk’s feet which had been taking them left were now going right or the fruity taste of bisicle was dulling into memory as their tongue was borrowed. Frisk never felt afraid, exactly, just uncomfortable. Chara almost never did without permission, and the few times they had without it were usually to get them out of the way of an oncoming attack, but they still fought about it from time to time. Who gets to eat this or who gets to play that. It was a tiring struggle.

But then, there were the other times. Instances when Chara became silent and Frisk could feel the nostalgia pulse in their shared being as they adventured through various sections of Underground the other easily rattled off the names of. The odd strikes of pain that would hit sometimes when they met monsters Frisk imagined Chara once knew even if they never spoke a word of it (though none had been quite as powerful as Toriel, that particular encounter leaving them with eyes burning and chest bleeding agony with the desire to stay). Rare, quiet moments where they would lay after a long day’s trek and just talk.

It was in one of these moments, amid Frisk showing them some signs as requested, that Chara spoke up, ‘You don’t like to talk much.’

The voice was soft, pulsing and intruding lightly, but it still made Frisk reel some, lowering their hands. ‘No.’ They thought back strongly, kind of hoping they would drop it.

Of course they didn’t. Considering how many times Frisk had taken advantage of their predicament and allowed Chara to do some (okay, almost all) of the talking, they couldn’t blame their curiosity. ‘Why?’

A huff blew from their lips, thoughts weaving in their head without purpose for a while, until Frisk said, ‘If I tell you, you tell me something about yourself back.’

The pause in return was twice as long. Certain they had their answer, Frisk started to pull up the covers to get more comfortable when Chara whispered a hesitant, ‘I choose what it is.’

They frowned. That wasn’t very fair but they nodded all the same. ‘Alright.’

‘You first.’

That figured. Frisk drummed a nervous rhythm along one thigh. ‘I don’t like the way it feels when I try to talk. It’s like someone starts pressing on my chest and I can’t breathe right. Then I start thinking I’m about to say the wrong thing and that makes me feel really sick, like I’m gonna throw up. Even if it’s something dumb like what color the sky is and I can’t possibly get it wrong, my dumb head convinces me I will and I just… it hurts to do it. I hate it, so I don’t.’

‘But you talked to Papyrus a lot.’ Chara pointed out.

‘Yeah, I know.’ They rubbed the soft edge of the blanket through their fingers. ‘It’s not always like that, just most of the time. I’ve got to, I dunno, feel ‘right’ about it. The other people I was around, if I tried to say anything, would always yell about how I needed to speak up, or that I shouldn’t mumble and it only made it harder for me. Papyrus wouldn’t do that, he’s too nice.’ Frisk bit their lip. ‘I’m not explaining this real well.’

‘No I get it, sort of. Who taught you sign?’

‘A school counselor. I know not a lot of people can read it but it feels better then saying stuff so it helps me. Sometimes if I sign what I want to say over and over I feel good enough inside to speak it but… not a lot of people like to wait for that.’

There was a buzz that filled their head that meant Chara was thinking deeply but Frisk for once didn’t have to wonder what about when they got the sheepish reply. ‘Sorry.’

A smile pulled at their lips. ‘It’s okay. You didn’t know and I probably would have been signing for hours.’ There was a pleasant trickle, like laughter, from the other that warmed them. It was too bad it couldn’t last. ‘Your turn.’

Their mind started to buzz again, louder than before. Frisk was prepared to be told something meaningless, like what the other’s favorite candy was, so when Chara finally spoke up, they weren’t prepared for what they did end up saying.

‘I killed someone before.’ Frisk felt everything come to a screeching halt and they caught their breath. It was impossible to hide anything from someone inside you though. ‘It’s okay if you’re scared of me. I would be too.’

Frisk shook their head vehemently, even if they didn’t quite believe their own conviction. Chara never talked about themselves much. But Frisk could tell sometimes in the actions they’d make or the feelings that’d run through their shared SOUL that their life before they came to the Underground might have been similar, or worse, than their own. They took a breath, let it out slow, and asked, ‘Why?’

‘I, well’, Chara stumbled, as if they hadn’t expected that. Had they expected Frisk to just give up? They had more determination then that. When they tried again, their voice was smaller than they’d ever heard it before, ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘What happened?’

‘I just wanted to save them. Like a royal should. Dad said I was their hope, so I was supposed to!’

Their heart was beginning to squeeze uncomfortably. ‘Chara?’

It was as if they said nothing at all as the other started to ramble, their emotion filling Frisk, flooding them, drowning them. ‘It was supposed to work, you know? The barrier was going to be broken, Asriel could see the sun, mom and dad would be happy – it was gonna be perfect. The monsters here deserve the surface more than any of those fucking humans do. I was okay, giving my SOUL for that; be the first time it was useful. But it didn’t work. I messed up. Asriel was too nice, of course he was, he couldn’t take the others we needed, wouldn’t let me do it either, and got shot and died and HOW COULD I LET THAT HAPPEN?!’

‘CHARA!’ Their mind ached and their torso burned as breaths came too fast from their lungs. ‘You’ve got to calm down. Please.’

‘I- shit. Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-’

‘It’s okay.’ Frisk cut them off before they could get wound up again, the tension slowly melding out of their shoulders and leaving exhaustion in its place. They fell against the headboard, rubbing away the wetness in their eyes. In the background of their mind, where Chara sometimes slipped away to, they could hear grumbles.

They had a feeling a lot of self-deprecating ‘stupids’ were being said.

They reached for them, pushing gently. ‘You never said that name before. Asriel. Who was he?’

At first, their head-mate didn’t seem inclined to answer; but like always, patience won out and finally they responded, ‘He was my brother. I should have never let him get involved.’  They felt Chara drift back again, as if they were turning away. ‘I should have never let _you_ get involved.’

‘What? Why?’

‘I’m probably going to hurt you too.’ Struck by that caring statement, Frisk stared out towards the window, a smile slowly blooming on their lips. ‘What? What are you so happy about?’

They gave an audible hum as they shook their head before raising their hands up before their eyes again. They pointed at themselves then tapped their temple with their right index finger. Moving the hand down, they pressed it into a fist, laying it atop their already clenched left hand so it appeared as if they were grasping onto an invisible rope, then pointed again, this time at where their SOUL would float outside their chest during battle.

Chara seemed to sigh, amusing them. ‘What does that one mean?’

Frisk’s smile, if possible, grew wider as they answered.

‘I trust you.’

* * *

Chaos.

The entire world was chaos, filled with Flowey’s distorted laughter, attacks coming from every direction and the pain of half a dozen human souls crying out for relief from torment. Frisk stumbled backwards, sweat pouring from their forehead as they narrowly dodged the flamethrower and heard Chara’s warning too late. (Right, there were two.)

Clothing alit instantly and heat blistered their skin, pain searing as they gave their final scream.

Only to hear laughter as they stood again at the center of the field and the chaos began again. But, they didn’t allow their determination to waver. Because despite their own entrapment, the souls were reaching out for them. With every attack Flowey forced them to make, the souls would respond to their call for help, turning attacks into aid that the grotesque monster before them either didn’t notice or didn’t care about.

It was when they fell into another pocket dimension to face yet another onslaught that something changed in the pitch-black world. Souls of all colors surrounded Frisk, energy flowing into them and for the first time in possibly a few lost lifetimes here in this endless fight, they felt their strength return. They heard distinct yet unrecognizable voices yell out to them:

_Don’t give up!_

_You guys got this!_

_We’re fighting too!_

_You can do it!_

_Kick his ass!_

_We’re right here with you!_

‘Did they… heal you?’ Chara spoke up suspiciously.

“Mm.” Frisk nodded, straightening up as the black expanse faded and Flowey came into view again and the attacks started to come more rapidly now. They took to dodging again, weaving around white-bladed shurikens and snapping vines.

‘We can’t keep doing this forever. Frisk, they’ve given us a chance! We have to attack.’ Chara urged.

But the last time they had struck out, Asgore had, he had-! ‘I… I can’t.’

‘I know.’ The other said, unusually calm. ‘So let me help you.’

They hesitated, if only for a moment. ‘I dodge, you strike.’

‘Got it.’ That was all the permission Chara needed before they took control of their arms and lashed out with malicious fervor.

They had never traded so rapidly before but it felt almost like they were flowing around each other in a seamless dance. Frisk would duck and roll while Chara would leap and strike before Frisk was back and hopping out of range, looking for an opening to get close. They focused entirely on their actions, so much so, Frisk could almost not hear Flowey’s inhuman cries every time they landed a hit. And each time they felt their strength wane, a soul would provide bursts of energy that would fill them and renew their stamina and vigor.

And then it happened. Chara landed another blow, their arm aching from the constant swinging around, and Flowey’s entire form trembled, making the ground underneath them shake as the beast shrunk backwards.

“This can’t be happening!” The television screen was going wild with images that were sickening to look at as their body started to fall apart.

‘We did it!’ Chara called, relieved and triumphant, moving backwards on unsure knees to get out of range of the crumbling creature.

“You… You…!”

And then it was as if they blinked. The world was steady again, their stomach was roiling, and Flowey was grinning at them from the television screen.

“You idiot.”

‘W-Wha-?’ They hardly had time to process that the other had reloaded, when a beam slammed into them and incinerated them in a second.

Only for them to return, laughter filling their ears. Frisk’s entire body was tingling like it always did after a rapid loading and they fell on their hands and knees.

‘They killed us. That bas-’

They never heard the rest of Chara’s spiteful words before vines pierced their body and tore them apart. Frisk died instantly.

Only to wake to another oncoming beam.

It was an endless loop of agony and death. Over and over, they were revived and killed, and their mind was just a loud scream that they woke up to and died with. No time to breathe. No time to react. It became their only existence.

Until they found themselves on the ground, gasping and struggling not to hurl. ‘H-How many…?’

‘Tw…Twenty maybe…’ They didn’t sound so good, not that Frisk felt any different.

Still, as Flowey laughed above them and his ‘friendliness’ bullets surrounded them, taunting them, they found the strength to stand even as their body quavered. Frisk rose their head high, the glare they wore probably Chara’s.

“Did you really think you could defeat me? I’m the God of this world!”

Fury filled their shared SOUL and Chara took their voice and screamed out, “Shut up! We WILL defeat you, you fucking _weed!_ ”

It drew the flower up short, Flowey eyeing them critically before it blipped and suddenly he was all grins again. “’We’, eh?” Vines shot out for them and they both flinched inwardly, prepared for another death. It didn’t come immediately. The vegetation instead wrapped tightly around their body, thorns digging into their skin, blood slowly dribbling out. They were effortlessly lifted upwards, hovering barely a foot away from the beast’s televised face and the look it wore could only be described as villainous. “What did you do, human?”

“What does it matter?!” Still in control, Chara struggled lashing out with their free arm at the vines. “Kill us again, see if I care, because I’ll just come back and kick your ass harder!”

“Babble out meaningless threats all you like, they’re rather hilarious. If you won’t tell me though,” A few spare vines lifted to hover around the red heart that personified their SOUL. “I’ll just have to take a look myself!”

The vines punctured through and Frisk’s entire world went white. It was like they were falling again, but gentler, lazily drifting rather them a gut-churning plummet. Their mind had gone quiet, just a sea of silence. Who they were or what they were doing no longer mattered. Here there was no pain. Here there was no worry.

Frisk stretched outwards, as if across a comfortable bed, and one single thought came to them: _This is nice._

“friSK!”

And then Chara’s voice shattered them from the reverie. Gasping for air, Frisk’s eyes snapped open, seeing their SOUL erratically pulsing before them. Flowey was just beyond, his attention drawn slightly to the left.

Frisk looked as well and their heart skipped a beat.

Chara was tangled in a web of vines that were slowly growing tighter and tighter around them. Their form was static at the edges, inconsistent and barely holding, and everything else, skin, clothes, the corners of their eyes, seemed to be melting away into blackness. A transparent hand outstretched towards them, crying out fearfully, “FRISK! HELP!”

They reached back, fingers just bare inches from reach. “Ch-Chara!”

Flowey cackled and with one final clench of his cage, destroyed them entirely.

Frisk screamed Chara’s name. They screamed it and screamed it, as if it would make them magically reappear before them or within their now despairingly empty SOUL.

But their voice had never been useful before so as Flowey tossed them to the ground, they relearned to stop trying.

“Ready for round two?” The monster jeered as they got back to their feet.

A tear-stained face rose to meet the enemy, vengeance burning in their blood. “You better believe it.”

* * *

The first thing Frisk saw when they opened their eyes was light filtering from the high ceiling, illuminating yellow pollen that glittered like falling stars as it drifted around the cavern. They stared at it, resolutely, before sitting up in the flowerbed and turning around.

Chara was staring back, wide-eyed. “You reset.”

It was not a question but still Frisk nodded, signing slowly, ‘I had to.’

Red orbs followed the movements, and after a second repetition, snorted and looked away. “Couldn’t beat Flowey without me, huh?”

They decided not to reply to that and risk hurting the other’s pride. They had, with the six human souls, managed to pull a victory in the end – but even after all that the plant had done, they still couldn’t raise Chara’s dagger and pull off the final blow.

Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise though, for the flower was the one to remind them of the reset button. The one that, in a bout of curiosity, they had pressed just shortly after going to bed in Toriel’s house during their first ‘run’. When they awoke amidst flowers, Chara was looking back at them, saying peevishly, “Well, we’re only using that if we really need to.”

Last time, Frisk had felt sheepish. This time, they only felt proud as they held out their hand.

Their friend observed it from the corner of their eye, sighing dramatically. “Well, I guess you’re not giving me much of a choice are you?” They reached out a hand, bypassing Frisk’s entirely.

They pressed down on their SOUL.

A shudder wracked a violent path down their spine and Frisk tried to jerk back. But while their mind urged the movement, their body could not complete it. The most they accomplished was tilting their head back a few inches.

They stared into Chara’s face, seeing a razor-sharp smile and eyes eaten away by darkness.

“Guess I just have to take matters into my own hands.”

* * *

‘You’re not Chara.’

Crunching down into the snow like snapping bones, feet paused just shy of the exit of Snowdin. “Oh, you are still there.” The whatever was piloting their body lifted an arm, brushing off the speckled dust that had settled into their clothes. Frisk wasn’t sure that even a reset could ever truly get it all out. “And I am Chara – or, at least, what’s left of her.”

‘Them.’ Frisk snapped venomously.

The laugh that came from their own mouth had never sounded so wrong. “Whatever you like, kid.” They started to walk again, heading towards the falls. “I brought out the best of Chara; the true being within. I am their hatred. And this-“ They swept out an arm, encompassing the dying world they were leaving in their wake, “is the result of that hatred.”

‘Chara didn’t hate _monsters_.’ They replied, their fury and desperation giving them strength that had been missing for much too long. ‘They hated humans.’

Frisk could feel the smile stretching unnaturally across their face. “Ah, so that means they hate you, doesn’t it?”

It felt like the floor suddenly fell from underneath them. ‘What…’

“Haha! Oh you really didn’t think of that did you?”  The not-Chara retorted gleefully. “To build up your trust in round one only to utterly crush your spirit the second time around; to shatter you beyond repair like they themselves were.”

‘No, they… Chara _wouldn’t_ -‘

They scoffed. “Wouldn’t what? Hurt you? Betray you? Did you truly think you were _special_ Frisk? That you, some kid that even his own parents threw out on the street because he was so utterly useless, could accomplish such a feat?”

When there was no response, ‘Frisk’ smiled and started forward again.

* * *

Frisk had believed there would never be a pain more prominent then being killed repeatedly over by Flowey.

They found that being killed by Sans, who seemed to wield the fury of the dozens of souls their hands had murdered in each attack, was a hundred times worse. A bone in the back was Undyne’s spear cleaving them through with a war cry. A blaster to the face was Mettaton’s bomb incinerating them with a mechanical laugh. A slam into the wall was the dogs, their parents, Papyrus, Toriel pushing them away in disgust, that alone enough to break their SOUL.

But after the seventy-third try, even the skeleton fell under the cut of the knife and they walked over his dust into the throne room. Frisk fought like always, shoving against the walls of their own mindscape wordless cries echoing in their head. And like every time before, they could only watch helplessly as their body refused to listen to their commands (It was almost becoming funny that they thought it would make a difference to even try anymore). They watched, numbly, as their hand rose on its own accord and with the LOVE burning through them, took Asgore’s life in a single strike. Frisk had never felt so powerful and so powerless at the same time.

As Flowey appeared, babbling fretfully for his life like they had heard many before him try, Frisk just curled up in their own mind and waited for it to be over.

“I can… I can-!!” The stems of flora snapped underfoot as they approached. The knife rose. “P-Please.”

The hand descended than froze.

“Don’t.”

The limb shook, struggling. Pained familiarity was filling them that they couldn’t make sense of.

“Kill.”

Frisk rose up, reaching outwards. ‘Cha-?’

“Me!”

The moment was gone and the knife came down, over and over, under the little flower was nothing but bits of petals and silvery-white nectar spilling across the ground like blood. Frisk stared, sorrow clenching at their lungs. The sight was soon taken from them, their brimming Determination and LOVE blending and turning the world black.

And for the first time in the past three grueling weeks, Frisk felt their body again. They stumbled, limbs uncertain like a newborn doe, sinking to the ground and heaving sickly on the floor. Their body felt twisted and wrong, like something poisonous had seeped through and left burning scars on the inside that would never heal.

“So, partner.”

The jeering voice caused Frisk to weakly raise their head, spotting not-Chara hovering a few feet away, an eternal crazed smile stretched on their lips.

“I think it’s time to end this world, don’t you?”

Two options hovered into view, much like when they Reset, except this time the choices were **Erase** and **Do Not**. And as they looked beyond them up into their tormenter’s face, Frisk knew it didn’t matter which one they chose. It was just another game, a puzzle that had no solution, a death that had no reload.

Still, trembling fingers reached upwards and with one last defiance, they pressed down on **Do Not**. A warm sensation pressed against their knuckles, as if Chara’s hand was covering theirs to press down as well.

The demon cackled spitefully and swung the knife down and everything turned red.

* * *

Death was less than Frisk had expected. There were no angels on clouds singing hymens or, possibly more appropriate, spear-tailed imps laughing as they shoved them into pits of fire.  It was just black. A sea of nothingness and silence that they floated through, body possibly nonexistent. Perhaps that was the reason for the quiet – everyone was here but no one had lungs to talk with. Frisk could hear their own voice but they weren’t sure they actually gave it volume outside of their own head.

Alone in every manner of the word, Frisk was left to their own thoughts. Sometimes they thought of the things back before, of the shelter that wasn’t a home, of the school that wasn’t a safety, but those thoughts only lingered and were quickly shoved away. Moreso, their mind was preoccupied with the things they had found afterwards. Butterscotch-cinnamon pie tenderly left at their bedside, eccentric or nerve-wracked calls made to kindly avert them from dangerous paths, warm sips of tea with a former foe-turned-friend, good-natured pranks pulled that often left them smiling, chases through rainstorms underneath a mostly useless umbrella, affection given to overgrown puppies, flashy dances shared with a flamboyant robot, songs hummed, gifts given, laughter shared.

And in those quiet times when no one was around, they still had Chara willing to offer a jibe or joke, share a story or fact, or sometimes just be a silent but reassuringly warm presence beside them that sometimes meant the most of all.

Frisk fantasized what it could have been like, had everything gone right. They imagined so many things. Tea in a quiet kingdom with a benevolent but sorrowed king. Flower petals drifting and bells ringing as a fancily dressed fish and reptile shared vows and a kiss. A wide room full of applause as a kind-hearted skeleton was finally accepted into the royal guard while his overly proud brother made puns through the whole ceremony. A warm bed and a story being read in a soft and caring voice. Late nights spent slipping chocolate from the pantry for a craving belly or sneaking away from home – a real home – just to go see the golden flowers.

They continued to conceive all sorts of things, some of them rather wild and impractical (because, really, growing wings so that they were able to fly up and punch the barrier into oblivion was just ridiculous), until even their thoughts grew tired and dark like the not-world around them. Frisk let themselves drift off into a state of pseudo-sleep.

* * *

“Still lingering, eh? Why can’t you just fade away?”

The sensation of opening their eyes was more a memory as Frisk strained to find the source of the voice in the void. How long had they been here? A day? A year? It was impossible to know.

“You really want to go back that much? To the world you destroyed?”

“Don’t you?” Frisk thought in their direction, wondering if they could be heard. “This can’t really be what you wanted.”

The voice, still in Chara’s tone, which felt like a deep insult, replied, “It was an interesting ending at least.”

“What… _are_ you?” Frisk asked.

“Heh.” They could envision the sharp-toothed smile. “What goes beyond the resets? No, what makes them _possible?_ Everything you’ve done at this point, what was the power you used to do it all?” A beat of nothing, then, “Determination.”

“I… I don’t…”

“You never saw it, did you? The basement of the lab. That is where I was born. My mother wanted me to do great things. I gave dead monsters a new form and a second chance. I gave Flowey – or what you know as Flowey – a voice and a purpose. And, when you presented them to me, I gave Chara the strength they yearned for.”

As they tried to digest and make sense of the other’s words, Frisk felt something sliding down their back as if the creature was slithering around them like a snake, hissing in their ear, “And now I will be the thing to bring it all back. All I need is your SOUL. Give it to me and you can have this world again.”

They shuddered, shoving the other away. “NO!”

Frisk felt the presence fade. “Then stay here for eternity.”

* * *

“Still here, huh? Have you rethought my offer?”

“No.”

“Heh, you’re a strange one.”

* * *

“Wouldn’t it be nice to return? Didn’t you like making that comedian laugh when you balanced those hot dogs across the cavern? Didn’t you like taking my mother on a ‘date’ so that she could hook up with that fish? Didn’t you like making Toriel smile at you, like you were all she ever wanted?”

“…”

“It’s just your SOUL. It’s not much, when you think of it. Come on, partner.”

“Don’t call me that.”

A chortle made their nonexistent body clench. “Oh, what would you prefer? Amigo? Compadre? _Friend?_ ”

“None of them.” Frisk imagined pulling a blanket over his head, shutting out a world already gone. “You’re not anything to me.”

* * *

“Aren’t you getting bored?”

“...”

“Really now. Ignoring me? Can you be any more childish?”

“…”

There was a loud sigh and then they were alone again.

* * *

“You… You hesitated.”

“Oh! Look who found their voice.” The creature was around them again, sadistically elated. “What did I hesitate over?”

“Flowey.”  The squeezing around Frisk slackened. “When you were about to kill them, you couldn’t bring yourself to do at first. Why?”

“… E-heh. Hehe… hehehe!” The constriction returned tenfold. “I was just… savoring it! It was my last kill after all. I really wanted to _drive_ the point home. Now, about that SOUL…”

Frisk didn’t respond but they filed that tidbit away in a corner of their mind.

* * *

“They’re all dead.” Frisk mumbled to themself.

“Oh, now what are you going on about?” The ever-looming demon replied. “Of course they’re dead. We killed them.”

“No. I mean, those you ‘helped’. They were all dead.” They could almost hear Papyrus’ cheers as they pressed the last missing piece of this monster’s puzzle into place. “ _Chara’s_ dead.”

“Being pretty morbid right now, aren’t ya kid? Yeah they all bit the _dust_ a long time ago.”

Could it be?

“Ah, I think even Sans would have appreciated that one!”

Could it _really_ be that simple?

Frisk could barely hear themselves over the sound of their rapidly beating heart. “Are you still inside Chara right now?”

They felt the other twisting around their ankles like a vine. “That’s quite the philsophical question to answer when we’re like this. I do need a form to speak, however, so I suppose I’m still within the last body I occupied.”

Frisk was shaking. They wondered over how they had been the first to see Chara and over Chara themselves who had outlasted decades, incorporeal and alone. They wondered over the power to reload and reset. They wondered how, even after all this time, they still stood here in this world of nothingness against a creature of determination itself.

Nothing was certain.

It was a risk they weren’t confident of, but their entire being thrummed with hope.

“Alright.”

The presence froze. “Alright?”

Maybe they hadn’t been able to save the Underground. Maybe they couldn’t even save themselves. But maybe, with what little power they did have, they could save someone else.

“My SOUL is yours.”

It was instant that Frisk felt something cold grab at their heart and as they felt themselves fade, they held onto their determination, feeling certain it would be enough.

* * *

The first thing Chara saw when they opened their eyes was light filtering from the high ceiling, illuminating yellow pollen that glittered like falling stars as it drifted around the cavern. They stared at it, uncomprehendingly, before sitting up.

The first thing they noticed was their hands were not their own. They were larger and darker, with a white-faded scar over the left index knuckle. They rose them slowly, to their face and turned them around. Curled them some and able to envision the signs they made. Not theirs, but undeniably familiar.

What had happened? The last thing they recalled was being stuck in limbo at the end of everything, screaming at the top of their unheard lungs for Frisk not to do something stupid.

Which they, of course, went ahead and did anyways.

A chuckle broke through their chaotic thoughts and Chara twisted around.

_Whoa._

Had it been that weird to see themselves that first time?

“F-Frisk…?” Chara spoke, voice cracked and unused and definitely not theirs.

The ghost, an exact identical to the body they inhabited except it was intangible, waved back, smiling at them before pointing towards them and making another hand movement. ‘You okay?’

“Am I…?” Chara rose a hand, slowly at first. And then balled it into a shaking fist, punching right through Frisk’s chest. “Am _I_ okay?! You idiot! No! I’m thoroughly pissed off! What the fuck were you thinking, selling your SOUL to that-that – w-will you quit smiling like that you unbelievable _retard!_ ”

They fluttered their hands, faltered, face twisting as if they might cry as they said shakily, “I’m just glad you’re back.”

“But how did you know that would work?” The other shook their head and Chara felt another spike of fury. “You didn’t? Then why would you risk it? What if my determination hadn’t been strong enough!?”

Frisk’s lips quivered on their smile as they silently pointed to themselves, touched their temple, pressed their fists together, then pointed back at Chara, tears starting to spill.

Chara hit them again. Had Frisk been corporal, it would have been nothing more than a light tap on their shoulder. “Stupid… stupid!” Their breath hitched and shoulders trembled hard. “I hate you so much right now.” Their hand dropped, gliding over the tops of the flower bulbs, rubbing velvet-soft petals as they both sniffled.

When they finally felt steady enough to speak, they asked “How are we going to make up for all this? We hurt them, killed them… how can we come back from that?”

“We start over. We do it right.” Frisk held out a hand. “Until we save everyone.”

After a moment, Chara reached out and took their hand.

Though they couldn’t feel it, it filled them with determination. “Got it, partner.”


End file.
